


Sleepy

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Toppy/Dommy Kylo [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux is sleepy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepy

Hux is tired, he is. He’s been firing all cylinders for too long. He’s giving it his all, working long hours to get the second Starkiller up and running on schedule. The logistics are known this time, but the constraints of credits and man hours are just things that can only be stretched so far. He’s trying to keep all the balls in play at once, and not to leave Kylo abandoned for too long, though his Knight is less insecure than he used to be, he still needs plenty of reassurance. 

Tired. He drools slightly into the pillow, arms curled under it. Snores nudge him in and out of wakefulness, never more than a few flickers of dim light as he checks he’s safe, then drifts back under. 

It’s a while before he registers the soft kisses as there, at the nape of his neck. Kylo slips his heavy frame over him, the larger man blanketing him utterly. He’s spread out, making breathing slightly more laborious, but the weight and solidity of his body there just makes him feel safe and cared for. 

Hux has never shared a bed before. Not to sleep. The occasional elbows and cover-stealing are small prices to pay for the arms around him, or the kisses in the dark. 

Kylo slides his hands under the pillow, too, curling over the backs of Hux’s. The kisses continue, but there’s no demanding in them, and Hux allows a miniscule purr to escape, approving of the attention. 

He’s too tired to do anything himself, but he has always enjoyed Kylo lavishing attention on him; be it mouth on his boots or cock, or hands in his hair, or fingers on his nipples. Right now, a wiggle tells him the man atop him is lightly aroused, but if he said he didn’t want any more, he trusts Kylo would take that as it’s meant: ‘later’. 

He is intrigued what Kylo plans, though, and his treacherous cock tries to press into the bed below him. 

Kylo asks a question without words, that strange mental lift like the rising tone of a voice, and he nods his consent. 

He has no idea what time it is. Doesn’t matter. 

They sleep naked under fine sheets, and it’s those he grabs as Kylo starts to slide up and down. His cock is a pleasant, snub, silky glide between his buttocks, and he arches his back at the tease of it. They rock by degrees, little breathy noises of muted, sleepy hunger and the tiny groans of the bed as Kylo’s hands drag from palms, over wrists, down arms and torso to grab at his hips. 

It almost doesn’t matter what they do. Kylo could jack his cock over his back and massage the sticky mess into him. He could slide under his balls, between his thighs, and grind against Hux’s cock. He could do anything, and Hux would be pleased. He’s not expected to put too much vigour in, but he’s also not about to be a bad lay. 

He can’t get his knees underneath himself, but he opens his eyes and looks languidly over at his beloved. “In the drawer.”

Kylo smiles, and uses the Force. Hux does not mind. 

He likes his spine and cheeks to be massaged first, and Kylo knows. Thumbs dip palm-warm liquid over his back, and broad hands knead at his buttocks, teasing them and squeezing. He’s putty in Kylo’s hands, the steady, firm touches making him trill in low happiness, and when the slicked index finger finally whirls inside, it’s a relief. 

Around, around, and he lets himself vocalise his interest and approval, the sounds filling the room, making Kylo breathe faster. 

He’s already relaxed, so when Kylo lies along him again, he’s more than ready. Gradual pushes and ruts, and then Kylo’s very satisfying dick slips into him. There’s no burn, but it is still a stretch. The kisses start again, and Hux tries to undulate to make it good for them both. 

A hand under his jaw, and his face turns like a panel seeking solar power; the kisses genuine and around breath that trades back and forth. Conspiracy. That’s where it comes from. 

Deep, but slow. Like the movement of the plates of the earth, two impossible and impassible bodies grinding together until the hot rock below explodes through. Hux tightens around him, moving with what little leverage he has. Oh, but it’s torture of the best kind, and his exhausted body sings with hot-skin and fever-full bliss. He needs to finish, needs it so hard. 

“Please,” he says, at last. “Please.”

Kylo kisses his lips, still holding his neck, hand on his hip. 

“Kylo…”

“Fuck…”

He’s hoisted up a little, then a hand finds his cock and starts to work over him, pulling and twisting and working him almost achingly fierce. 

“Do it,” Kylo says. “Do it.”

Hux scrapes nails over the sheets and rides the space between hand and dick, pleasured both ways, a hiss through his teeth and a sudden sense of too, too, too much as the climax hits. It’s a climax that spreads out from in his pounded hole, washes through him like cleansing fire. Hux humps himself dry, and drops to the bed as Kylo puts one foot up and slams madly in, taking his own satisfaction from a too-raw body below. An explosive heat inside, a grunt, and he mrrs in satisfaction. 

Hux smiles, and reaches behind him. Kylo almost moves, but the hands make him stay. Make him stay, and he feels the gradual softening inside of him. It’s good. It’s so good. He needs to sleep, and he says so, and gets more kisses and a ‘thank you’ that’s worth more than any title ever could be. 

Yes. Perfect. So tired. So good. So… so…


End file.
